Clandestine
by Lady of Pride
Summary: The grandson of Rome and the lover of Germany, Italy doesn't know what to do when faced with the absolute power of the Holy Roman Empire, his oldest friend and long lost love. Try as he might, he can't prevent the past from unravelling at his fingertips.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm far from done with _'The Devil's Joke'_ but this little piece just needed a little air. It's multi-chaptered, and the HRE-is-Germany theory is certainly twisted, but it needs its chance to soar... Poor Feli.

**Title**: Clandestine

**Rating**: Nc-17 (or M)

**Pairings**: Germany/Italy (Ludwig/Feliciano), HRE/Italy, and ~in a twisted sort of way~ Germany-is-HRE/Italy...

**Warnings**: "_angst_" always deserves its own warning, because while this is a 'romance', I realize most of you would rather skip over the heartache. That being said, I'd like to include '_sex_', a certain degree of '_violence_', and perhaps a bit of '_language_' to the list, as well as the possibility of '_dub-con_' if this turns out the way I have everything planned...

**Fun Facts**: ...can be found at the bottom of the page. If you're not a history buff, don't sweat it—I'll explain most of the information I use at the end of every chapter.

**Con-crit**: I'm not a published author, and I realize that some of my commas might've migrated between sentences, so I'll accept any advice you can give me. Seriously, have at it, darlings.

**Disclaimer**: Hetalia belongs entirely to Hidekaz Himaruya.

**Summary**: _Two very distinct entities, though still one in the same: the Federal Republic of Germany and the Holy Roman Empire... The weight of the world rests upon Italy's shoulders, but he's powerless to prevent the past from unravelling at his fingertips..._

~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~

_By the hands of none other than Napoleon Bonaparte, 1806 bore witness to the dawning of a new Confederation and the swift cessation of a most persistent Empire. With the abdication of the Holy Roman Emperor, Francis the Second, the kingdom's liberated German Princes aspired to create what would ultimately lead to a naissance of nations. Each entity would eventually declare their own independence, yearning to stand before the world, personified, as so many of those that had come before them._

_And in due course there would come another, through Empire, Republic, and Reich, until the Federal Republic of Germany could look outside his office window at the streets that were his veins and the people that were his blood, and know that he would remain for many years to come, alive in every heart, even if all that lingered of him was nothing more than a whisper. With that alone, he could survive almost anything. He was Germany, after all. He would persist._

_But he was hardly the first to think that, and he certainly wouldn't be the last._

_The Holy Roman Empire, after all, was much more than a meagre stretch of land..._

~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~

It was raining.

Feliciano didn't mind the rain. He even enjoyed it on days such as these, when the heat was sweltering and his sweat-damp shirt clung to his back. Sticky and hot and almost heaving in the humid air, he paused in his mopping to push the kitchen shutters open as far as they could manage and stood there for a moment to appreciate the cool breeze that had accompanied the midday storm. It reminded him of days spent dallying in the fields; of losing track of time and running home late in a light drizzle, frock hiked up around his knees with a bundle of flowers heaped in the cradle of his apron. Austria would scold him about the importance of punctuality as Hungary fussed over his wet hair, and then he would wander off to see if Holy Roma wanted to paint or chat or simply be with him, even if it was only for an hour, because tomorrow he'd be leaving again. Like he always did...

He missed the Holy Roman Empire.

More than anyone would ever know.

He left the windows open as he washed the kitchen floor until his bones began to ache from the chill and the rumble of thunder drowned out the sound of his humming. The house smelt heavenly, and his floors were clean, and maybe he still needed to change the bedspread before he was finished for the day, but that mattered little when he knew his lover would be a here tonight. So he closed the shutters and lit a few candles, and went about doing what he did best.

He'd never tried to make Gefülte Nudelnbefore, but he was familiar with Kummelweck, and by the time he had the table set, Ludwig was struggling to wiggle his key lose from the new lock on the front door. Then his eyes fell on Feliciano and the key pulled free, and he blushed the most handsome shade of red Feliciano had ever seen.

"_Guten Abend, Italien_," he mumbled quietly.

When he saw what the Italian had prepared for dinner, it brought a smile to his face.

Feliciano greeted him with a kiss.

~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~

Ludwig was a proud man. He was fierce in his determination and persistent in his endeavours; a formable ally when given a chance. He was reliable in a crisis and well-known for his attention to detail, but unless he was needed for anything more than his regular duties he was content with living his life as he always had, doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and with whom. That was all.

And he couldn't have been happier.

His days consisted of meetings and phone-calls and a never-ending pile of paperwork that grew more often than it ever shrank, but he had duties here, too, in the bedroom, where Feli was the instrument of his heart's desire, and where Ludwig could pretend he was a musician, pulling gasps and moans and the most delightful little noises from those gloriously soft lips. Feliciano, with his legs wrapped around Ludwig's waist and his ankles crossed behind the German's back, was the only one that knew his every side, and was the only one that ever would. His first and only love...

Feliciano Vargas.

Here, beneath his hands, warm and slick and oh so very inviting, Ludwig could show his oldest friend the man he wanted him to see, the one that was compassionate, and loyal, and _loved_. Loved by Italy.

Always by Italy...

Feliciano came with a cry; Ludwig dove headfirst into the fire after him.

He would gladly burn for him.

When he could breathe again, he pulled free of the Italian and collapsed beside him, quiet and lax and entirely too satisfied with himself. Feliciano looked good post-coital—smiling, sighing, still trying to catch his breath—as he reached out for Ludwig's hand and threaded their fingers together. Then he kissed Ludwig's knuckles and closed his eyes...

It was moments like these that Ludwig wanted to last forever, where both he and Feliciano were completely at ease. So he kissed Feliciano's hand in turn before the smaller man could drift away, and asked him what he would want in if he could have one wish.

"But I'm already happy," he yawned, turning over onto his side to face his lover. Feliciano's smile was lazy as he was enveloped by the German's arms, and broadened when Ludwig kissed the crown of his head. "I don't have any more wishes."

"I understand... but even if you thought it was trivial, what would it be?"

"I suppose..." He lulled off for a moment there, breathing softly, as though surrendering to his exhaustion. Ludwig wondered if he had eventually fallen asleep, but then Feliciano shifted in his arms and continued, "You know, I had a friend once," —another yawn masked as a sigh— "He died when I was very young. Alone, I think, because I wasn't told until much later..."

"I'm sorry," Ludwig murmured, because he hadn't meant to ruin the mood.

"Don't be," Feliciano whispered as he snuggled closer. Ludwig could hear the smile in his voice. "I think I would want one last chance to say goodbye...and to tell him I wasn't angry or sad because of him, even if he promised he'd come back someday. I don't want to think he died with that guilt."

He hummed in agreement and stroked Feliciano's hair, and thought about all the promises he'd made over time to the people that he loved. No more wars; no more bigotry. He had had his fill of that in the twentieth century...

With one last kiss to the top of that auburn head, he pulled the Italian closer and settled into a more comfortable position, listening as Feliciano's breaths evened out, gradually slowly, until Ludwig's mind drifted to another plane of existence...

He dreamt of an open field and a sea of flowers—and a child kneeling in the shade of a tree as she collected blossoms in the lap of her skirt. He called to her, and she turned to look, but before he could put a name to that smiling face he found himself standing in the midst of battle, blood on his hands, as a Frenchman sheathed a sword in his fragile, little body...

~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~

If she could wish for anything, Liechtenstein would ask for the opportunity to repay her brother, in full, for all the kindness he had ever shown her. If she had more land, she would gladly give it to him; if she had more people, they would pledge their allegiance to him.

And if she had had even an _ounce_ of power, well...she would give everything to him.

If only she were stronger.

_Then_ she could repay him...

But all he really wanted was a simple 'goodnight'.

"Sleep well," he said before turning away, footsteps fading down the hall. She watched Switzerland's back until he disappeared around the corner, and then she closed her bedroom door, lost to her thoughts...

That night, she dreamt of 1806, the year of her birth, when a handful of threads from another's existence coiled together to weave the very fabric of her life. And then she dreamt a little farther back to a war that was not quite her own—to a _people_ that were not quite her own—before she felt it breaking away, almost violently, as though it was never hers to begin with...

When she woke the next morning, Liechtenstein felt at a lose.

Somehow, she knew she was incomplete...

_Irreparably_ incomplete...

~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~

After centuries of solitude, he stirred...

**A/N**: If you have any comments, questions, or concerns, feel free to drop me a note. Regardless of whether or not you actually do, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

**Fun facts**:

1) The aforementioned _"Confederation"_ refers to the 'Confederation of the Rhine' (which would later become the 'German Confederation', and then the 'North German Federation' (to cut out Austria), and _then_ the 'German Empire', and_ then_... You can probably tell where I'm going with this). Likewise, the _"Empire"_ refers to the Holy Roman Empire (or, as it was referred to by the 16th century, the 'Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation'), which was dissolved during the Napoleonic Wars when Bonaparte sufficiently squashed it to make his French, little satellite, the Confederation of the Rhine. Gosh-_darnit_, Francis...why couldn't you have left things well enough alone, huh?

2) The _'German Princes'_: Interesting story—the Holy Roman Empire wasn't really a country or state, but more of a congregation of entities that were governed by bishops, dukes, and kings (and the like) that were collectively known as the _'princes'_. They later banded together to form the first 16 German states of the federation, which, in turn, would eventually lead to the beautiful Germany we know and love today!

3) I'm trying desperately to find the article again, but someone has Himaruya quoted as say something along the lines of Liechtenstein rising from the Holy Roman Empire's ashes. The Empire _"ended"_ on the 6th of August, 1806, and Liechtenstein's _"birthday"_ has been penned down as July 12th, 1806, when she first gained Independence through her accession to the Confederation of the Rhine. I could go on, and on, and on about our darling Lili, but you'll learn more about her over the course of the story. Even as a minor character, she plays an important part in the plot...

4) Here's one more totally random (but equally fun) fact: Even if you're a hardcore Holy Roman Empire fan, you can't _hate_ Napoleon completely—the French Revolution is what propelled our dear, sweet Feliciano into taking matters into his own hands as far as nationhood goes, and it was through Napoleon that he became the Kingdom of Italy, with none other than Bonaparte himself as King (Eugène de Beauharnai was his viceroy). Spread the love, darlings...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you for the review/story-alerts! However few my followers may be, I am honoured to have you as my viewers. *bows*

**Title**: Clandestine

**Rating**: Nc-17 (or M)

**Pairings**: Germany/Italy (Ludwig/Feliciano), HRE/Italy, and ~in a twisted sort of way~ Germany-is-HRE/Italy...

**Warnings**: "_angst_" always deserves its own warning, because while this is a 'romance', I realize most of you would rather skip over the heartache. That being said, I'd like to include '_sex_', a certain degree of '_violence_', and perhaps a bit of '_language_' to the list, as well as the possibility of '_dub-con_' if this turns out the way I have everything planned...

**Fun Facts**: ...can be found at the bottom of the page. If you're not a history buff, don't sweat it—I'll explain most of the information I use at the end of every chapter.

**Translations**: ...can also be found at the bottom of the page.

**Con-crit**: I'm not a published author, and I realize that some of my commas might've migrated between sentences, so I'll accept any advice you can give me. Seriously—have at it, darlings.

**Disclaimer**: Hetalia belongs entirely to Hidekaz Himaruya.

**~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~**

Though years of war had done well to harden him, dissolution had smoothed out the last few lines of grief and quenched his ever-present thirst for _more_. He was Prussia— _Allmächtiger _Preußen—lord of the old world and attendant of the new. He had persevered through the destruction of his once proud kingdom, and would endure the heady thrum of the atomic revolution, if for nothing else than the sole sake of _knowing_ and of being _known_, now and forever, by the last of his magnificent people...

And it was through Germany, _today_, that he could feel the whole world changing...

Lying in bed on a bright, Sunday morning, he dreamt of France and Napoleon...and a corpse. The Holy Roman Empire, still warm and soft, though void of soul, lying amidst the pile of bodies. That day, Prussia had thought of his own people, and how they desired a new Empire. _'A German Empire,'_ he thought—with the exclusion of Austria, perhaps, so that he could nurture this one without Roderich's influence.

So he knelt before that tiny corpse and pricked his finger on the tip of his dagger before smearing the blood around those precious lips. And then Prussia leaned down to breathe a little life into him, and held him, and watched as the first glimmer of life flickered behind the veil of his dull and glossy eyes...

Despite the destruction of his kingdom in favour of letting his brother thrive, Gilbert never once regretted the day he founded Germany. Ludwig had somehow always been more than just a dream. He was simply a grand idea waiting for the day of its fruition.

_Today_, however, Gilbert felt as though a piece of his brother had been severed from the whole, and that this fragment had become sentient immediately after the amputation. The sensation was so peculiar, Prussia really couldn't describe it beyond the impression of an abortion, self-induced; a miscarriage instrumented by the will of none other than the infant itself. And now he could feel the entity growing, spreading its influence far beyond the boundaries of its fellow nations, like a conqueror come to rape and pillage the land...

Opening his eyes to the first rays of light, the sun peaking coyly at him over the bottom of the windowpane, Gilbert reached over to the bedside table to collect his cell phone, and dialled up an old friend.

Austria, it appeared, had sensed something too.

**~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~**

Despite how he felt that morning, Ludwig tore himself from the warmth of their bed (—the tangle of sheets; Feli; the knowledge that he could _easily_ lie there for the rest of the day and wouldn't hear a word of complaint from his little Italian—) and trudged into the shower to cleanse himself of a most unfamiliar chill. He washed away the thin sheen of sweat and dried himself in haste, and then carried his aching body downstairs to collect his things from the living room before heading off to work.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't practically bolted out the door, hoping, _praying_, that Feliciano was still fast asleep in bed.

And all because he felt a little..._ill_.

As easy as it was to share his weakness with Feliciano, he hated to appear anything less than the embodiment of virility in the eyes of his lover. It was for this reason alone that he left a letter on the kitchen table detailing the fact that he expected he would be busy for a while, but that Feliciano was more than welcome to spend the week with him after tomorrow—just not today, please (_no_, certainly not today; he felt now as though there was something was rolling around in the pit of his stomach), because he couldn't even tell if he'd get done in time to sleep tonight. He'd ask his boss for a little time off and then drive together out into the countryside somewhere, maybe Florence even, to hide away and indulge themselves however they saw fit...

Feliciano would understand, of course. Despite his penchant for long afternoon naps, the Italian had once ignored him for days on end in an attempt to do away with all his paperwork. Generally speaking, 'paperwork' was never ending, but Feliciano had certainly dented the pile his boss had assigned to him in order to spend the weekend off in Berlin.

They had worked out, long ago, how to weave one another lives around each other's.

It made him wonder why, then, he simply couldn't tell Feliciano he was sick.

'_Because I don't want him to see me like this,'_ he mused wistfully to himself, _'and because I don't want to have to tell him to keep his distance if he doesn't want to catch what I have,'_ which would really be a shame, because he was finding it increasingly difficult to get out of bed in the morning after his nights spent sleeping with Feli. It was too easy to kiss him awake and massage his slender limbs, wrap those gloriously long legs around his waist and make love, over and over again, until Feliciano's every thought was occupied with nothing else but _him_...

He often wondered if he had become too possessive of his lover.

Even so, he didn't think he could afford to let Feliciano see him like this.

"You do not look well today, _Herr Deutschland_."

Startled, he looked up to see Angela Merkel, his Chancellor, standing before his desk. Realizing then that he was slouching, he corrected his posture and gave her a polite nod.

"It is nothing, _meine_ _Bundeskanzlerin_. A flu, perhaps. That is all."

"Over what?" she asked. The files in her arms were his work for today, but she kept them pressed securely against her chest even as he held out his hand to her expectantly. "Nothing is wrong with the people, at least to my knowledge."

"It is a personal matter," he murmured, and that was the best answer he could offer her. Occasionally, a nation could separate a portion of their personal life from that of their people. After all, they were not immune to the consequences of the decisions they made outside the popular opinion of their citizens... "I assure you, there is nothing to worry about."

"Likewise, Ludwig. Go home; get well. What I have for you today can certainly wait until you're better."

He wanted to argue with her, but she was fierce in the way most women are when given the opportunity to bloom. She had won her position as the first female Chancellor in Germany for a reason, and Germany didn't often want to go toe to toe with her.

Even if they did occasionally argue over the Life Partnership Act...

"...Call me if anything comes up," he said, relenting. Naturally, he would know if anything was wrong before she did, but even _he_ knew politicians had a way of keeping secrets. He could hardly read another person's mind. "_Auf Wiedersehen_..."

She smiled a little and turned away—before turning back to grab the files from his '_In_' pile. "These can also wait," she said before he could open his mouth, and then she was _really_ gone, leaving Ludwig, baffled, where he sat at his desk.

Stunned, he listened as her shoes _click-click-clicked_ against the floor tiles as she disappeared down the hall. Then he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples gingerly, willing away the migraine growing there...

Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was looming in the distance.

It felt eerily as though another war was coming.

**~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~/\\\~*~**

"This is it, huh?"

Despite his perchance for shoving democracy down everyone's throat, Feliciano had to admit that Alfred F. Jones had an honest face. Even though Alfred preferred to make his own cars (Lord knows—the American's had their gas guzzlers), Feliciano could see the way he appreciated Italy's newest convertible, how sleek it was, and _classy_, and curved in all the right places...

Much like his women, Feliciano thought merrily to himself.

Alfred whistled as he hopped into the driver's seat, holding his hand out expectantly for the keys. Italy tossed them to him and returned the man's smile as he climbed in next to him, watching as Alfred gripped the steering wheel admiringly before finally deciding to gun the ignition.

The engine practically _purred_. Feliciano had always appreciated that about automobiles, the way you could feel them hum, almost as though they were an extension of yourself. Such heavy beasts... They made him feel powerful somehow, not in the way one man could lord over another, but through the way you could look at the open road ahead of you and know that you were utterly _free_..

He felt that way Ludwig too most of the time—not as an _extension_ of himself, but rather as his other half. Together, they completed the circle that was Feliciano's earth...

He glanced at Alfred out of the corner of his eye. The man was grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

Feliciano really didn't mind these impromptu visits, especially when it gave him the opportunity to ditch the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

"Hey, Vargas—you mind if I take us for a spin?"

"_Per favore_. Be my guest."

"Anywhere in particular?"

Feliciano slouched down for a moment, thinking... Then he gestured to the road with a wave of his hand and smiled a little smile. "I'll direct you along the way."

"Will do, Captain."

They tore out of Rome like nobody's business (much like everyone else on the road, Feliciano mused), cruising through the Tuscan countryside without so much as a care in the world. Feli loved the feeling of the wind in his hair; the sunlight warm against his face. He especially enjoyed the almost impressionistic quality of the passing scenery. He'd have to paint it again someday. Maybe tonight even, if it was true that Ludwig was busy. Perhaps then, he'd give the finished project to his lover—

—before Francis could get his hands on it, of course. He had a feeling the man would never return the ones he'd taken so many years ago...

"Turn here," he said maybe fifteen minutes into the ride when he remembered where he wanted to go. Alfred followed the direction without question. The dirt road he had chosen took them off the highway and out through a pasture, one that was as old as time to Feliciano. Holy Rome had visited him there often when he was young and had played with him, rolling around in the flowers and the grass, until they were too tired to move anymore.

Feliciano could recall collapsing next the boy under a tree and simply sitting there, listening, as Roma recounted his many tales of glory on the battlefield...

'_I shouldn't think about him.'_ And really—he shouldn't. Since he had become intimate with Ludwig, he had promised himself he would stop wondering _'what if?'_ What if he wasn't dead? What if he came home? What if he was still in love with Italy...?

Feliciano couldn't explain why he was thinking of him. Perhaps it was because of what Ludwig had asked him last night. He was just being nostalgic. The feeling would pass...

Speaking of which, he wished he had woken up early enough to say goodbye. He hated it now when he slept through the morning until noon, at least on the nights that Ludwig decided to visit.

"—here, okay?"

"Hm?" How rude of him—he hadn't been paying attention. "I'm sorry?"

"I thought maybe we'd pull over for a bit. You look tired."

"Just a little," he murmured. And then he felt it, "—_Here_. Here is perfect."

Alfred gave him an odd look but didn't say a word as he slowed to a halt along the shoulder of the road. Cows were grazing on the other side of a low, wooden fence. The thicket of trees behind them had grown quite a bit since the last time Feli had been there.

"Come—let's get a little a shade!"

"Aren't you afraid someone's going to steal your car?"

"Out here?" Feliciano smiled. "No. Now come, _per favore_. This is a wonderful place to rest."

"...With the cows?"

"Yes. With the cows."

Alfred shrugged but decided it was for the best that he follow him as the smaller nation bolted out of the car. Hoping over the fence after Italy, he accompanied Feliciano into the shade, where they merely sat together quietly and passed the time watching the cows go on grazing.

Feliciano appreciated the simpler things in life.

"...Alright," Alfred sighed, "I guess this _is_ peaceful. A little. Mattie likes to go camping, but I'm a Vegas man myself. Drives him nuts..."

"_Sì_, but you haven't lived until you've celebrated in Europe. Ask Big Brother. I'm sure you'd agree."

"Okay, _no_ argument there," he laughed. "Francis knows how to get people drunk, I'll give you that much."

Feliciano smiled gently. Then he propped his knees up and crossed his arms over them so that he could use them as a support for his chin. "Might I ask, then...what brings you here?"

"The car, really—Francis let it slip you were putting something together and I needed a break. And I was in _France_ of all places, because Mattie wanted me to tag along on his annual visit. The molestation is sometimes too much to handle when you're the only one within groping distance, even for Mattie."

"I see... So, I guess that makes you a _'hero'_, hm?"

Alfred's eyes practically sparkled—the usual reaction to such statements, Feliciano noted. "Damn straight. A friend in need is a friend indeed, right? Heck, I'd even swoop in to save you if you didn't already have Ludwig waiting in the wings."

Which was certainly true.

And Feliciano could empathize with him concerning Francis. Now that he knew, more or less, all the things two people could do with one another in the bedroom, he had a better idea of when Francis was making a pass at him...

Fortunately, Ludwig could _also _tell when Francis was making a pass at him, which was really for the best. His lover was so much better at explaining that they were in a monogamous relationship; Feliciano honestly had no idea how to be stern or intimidating.

"—and you're probably daydreaming about him too. Eerie, huh?"

Blinking, he stared at Alfred until he was able to register what he had said. "_Mi dispiace_—I'm sorry, what?"

"Germany ...You zoned out. Look."

Lifting his head from his knees, he gazed out across the field at a figure in the distance and squinted his eyes against the sun. It was later now than what he'd expected. They probably should've started back a while ago.

Strolling through the long grass at a leisurely pace, eyes focused entirely on Feliciano, Ludwig was making his way gradually over to their little thicket of trees. For a moment, Feli was worried. His lover looked solemn—_confused_, almost, in the way that he was appraising Feliciano. But then those narrowed eyes softened and the slightest of smiles graced his face.

This was a look Feliciano was familiar with.

And so, when he sprung to his feet and ran over to greet his lover, he was not the least bit surprised when Ludwig relaxed into his embrace and bent his head down to accept Italy's kiss...

...Somehow, it felt as though an eternity had finally come to an end.

A/N: I believe that HRE would be a fiercely possessive man/boy, but I'll leave that idea to your imagination until I post chapter three. –And I apologize for the late update. My internet connection has been less than desirable these last few weeks...

**Translations:** (Keeping in mind that I speak neither German nor Italian...)

'_Allmächtiger _Preußen' – Almighty Prussia.

'_Herr Deutschland_' – "Mr" Germany

'_Auf Wiedersehen_' - Goodbye

'_Meine_ _Bundeskanzlerin_' – My Chancellor (fem.)

'_Per favore'_ – Please

'_Mi dispiace_' – My apologies/Sorry

**Fun Facts:**

1) Otto von Bismarck (AKA: "The Iron Chancellor") was the Prime Minister of Prussia from 1862-1890, and he wanted the Hohenzollern hegemony (-a royal family that ruled in Prussia from 1701 to about 1918-) to spread throughout the German States I had mentioned earlier in the last chapter. He could accomplish this by unifying said German states, but then he could only really get anything done if he booted Austria (-Prussia's darling nemesis-) from the picture. There's a long and fascinating tale that follows all this (after all, this is the birth of Germany we're talking about here), but that's a story for another time I suppose. All in all, I think it's important to mention that although Austria and Prussia weren't ever too amused with one another, Austria-Hungary has been a long time ally of Germany.

2) '_Meine_ _Bundeskanzlerin' _('My Chancellor'; keeping in mind that _Bundeskanzlerin_ is the female denotation of the noun _Bundeskanzler_) – Angela Merkel is the current Chancellor of Germany, and she took office on the 22nd of November, 2005. I'm not going to say much else about her other than her party is the CDU/CSU and that they claim to be 'centrist' on abortion and gay rights (I'm '?' as to what that means). I believe she's more or less implied that she plans to undo the gay marriage/civil union legislation already in Germany, but I don't think she'll really dare to touch what they've got going on for themselves right now (which, last I heard, is a Life Partnership Act: couples can take each other's names; qualify for state pensions if widowed; divorce and demand a settlement; etc... I don't know all the details though, sorry)

3) Gay Rights in Germany – see the above point.

4) To be fair, I have actually no idea where the Holy Roman Empire and Italy would've hung out. Seeing with how enamoured Roma was with Feli though, I imagine he would pop in to see the little fellow whenever he could (—and didn't he actually do that in one of the episodes? Sorry, spoiler-alert! I'm pretty sure he made a cameo in the story about the gondolas...).

5) If anyone else here is weirded out by the fact that some of the European nations are catching on to a change in power, so am I... I imagine it would be pretty freaky if I helped oust an old ruler, thought he was pretty much dead, and then found him standing on my doorstep x-number of years later. Can anyone else say hell on earth?


End file.
